


it's in the eyes, always in the eyes.

by Laeana



Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Celebrations, Childhood Friends, Dorks in Love, Drinking & Talking, Flirting, Friendship/Love, M/M, Podium, Resolved Sexual Tension, Silverstone 2020, Unresolved Emotional Tension, shutdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: Taste of champagne still too present on his lips, going for a drink at his hotel's bar, losing his words when Pierre enters the room ...A routine.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833505
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	it's in the eyes, always in the eyes.

For Charles, this second podium comes with a certain satisfaction and if he feels lucky, he knows that he has had his race and that he has nothing to regret.

A podium and he tastes champagne on his lips once again. But also on himself. Enveloping it all. Celebrations and all that, it's its place. This is where he feels he belongs, that he has a purpose, that he is actually doing what he always wanted to do.

Sensation of drunkenness. The adrenaline that goes down gradually, leaving him a kind of trance state. Then fatigue hits and it's harder to support himself, but he feels terribly good. Debriefing. He feels so much more ... than himself. Carried away by the crowd, the movement, representing many.

Also, on a whim, he accompanies a few other pilots to the nearest bar. The one at their hotel in fact. There aren't many people there and people don't really care. Carried by the same absurd feeling, he lets himself be carried away and does not count his glasses.

It's a tough season. The season is tough with them. For Ferrari. For Seb ...

He tried to talk to him again but he couldn't find a single moment to do so. Podium, debriefing, interviews ... too thorough for him and without a second to go talk to his teammate. The situation bothers him; he would like to be able to do something but what ?

Max and Daniel discuss quietly in a corner, very close, eyes riveted on each other. In their bubble, as so often. They have such a special relationship that even Charles envies them to be honest.

— Another drink ?

At his side Alex and Lando. Carlos didn’t come with them and, seeing the pouting expression on the features of the british, they had a small fight. He knows because otherwise the spanish would be here, Lando on his knees, a possessive arm wrapped around his waist, as always.

Those two too ...

It seems his current euphoria is fading faster than he would have thought, but his shower had already put his mind to it. Enough for him to be able to situate himself and make his decisions, so that he no longer felt like he was flying. Well-grounded.

— You should stop drinking, Lando, the thai mutters softly, not looking pleased at all.

— It's not like I would do an ethylic coma.

— We would look daft.

The youngest rolls his eyes but leaves his glass to their relief. He suddenly feels more peaceful. Maybe a little out. His enthusiasm wears off and next weekend will be another race at the same circuit. New opportunities, new chances. It’s up to him to watch for flaws and to pray for his car not to let go.

Or his tires in this case.

A small smirk lands on his lips at the thought. Damn it. Punctures. It was ... epic. A little appalling but epic.

— Congrats Charles, again.

— Thank both of you, I know-

He doesn't finish his sentence because, good god, he's here. He thinks it should be illegal to be able to dye your hair blonde, especially when it suits him so well. Sexy. He can't look away. He really can't look away.

Pierre Gasly enters the room and he loses his words.

He's been doing his best to distract himself from it the last few days. He does his best to distract himself from it on a daily basis. The restart of F1, their reunion. Instagram videos of Pierre doing his exercises ... his sun-tanned skin ...

— Hi guys, I was wondering if you were still there or not.

— You're late, Pierre ! exclaims Lando with a laugh that sounds a bit too much.

The french raises an eyebrow before looking up at the bottle of alcohol.

— Some things to settle with Dany. Which couldn't wait, sorry.

Charles tries to get back to a normal breathing rhythm, because it seems his breath has been cut the whole time Pierre has walked towards them, but when his childhood friend turns to him with a bright smile, he feels he might not be able to do it.

— Well done, Charles, it was a nice podium.

He blinks. He needs to say something.

— And you had a good race too, Pierre. Very good race.

Because after he finished his tasks and failed to speak to Sebastian, he has gone to the f1 account to see what he has missed. He was not disappointed with the performance of the Frenchman, not at all.

— Thank you.

Pierre looks at him for a long time. They look at each other for a long time and he swallows, waiting for something, a gesture, anything, but his interlocutor ends up simply looking away.

They exchange a few words, a soft conversation that sets in, not much to say. Various subjects, their opinions on this race which takes place at the same place. How everything will unfold. 

Every now and then silences set in and Charles can't help but glance at his best friend. Desire. That overflows in his chest. Their eyes meet. Tension that sets in.

Strange to say. It's been a long time since he contained everything he felt. Why does he seem to be able to let go so easily?

The glasses are more numerous, the crowd becomes foggy. It’s in the eyes, it’s always in the eyes.

Pierre's troubled blue. The emotions that rush there.

He lowers his head but when he raises it, the french has not looked away. He stares at him, without blinking. His lips are dry, he runs his tongue over it and sees the movement being followed. He swallows softly.

Self-confidence.

Charles gets up from his chair and walks quickly to come and sit on Pierre's lap. He doesn't hesitate and puts his lips on his. His eyes close, their tongues meet and it's languid.

He moans right in the middle; short of breath but he doesn't want to let go. He clings to the shoulders of the French. Everything has disappeared. Only the two of them are left.

The two of them.

Like an obsession that comes to life and it is always very contradictory, he feels revived. Ignites at the slightest touch against its skin. 

— P-Pierre ...

— Charles ...

They look at each other. They are still not aware of their situation. He feels very comfortable and feels the lump under his buttocks with some pleasure.

Their story is not new but there have been so many ups and downs, shutdown has made them move away, not being in the same place so-

As everything suddenly reaches its climax ...

— Are you sure ? the older man whispers in his ear without making any movement to free himself.

— You wanted to congratulate me on my race, right ? Then do it.

The possessive glow that lights up in those blue eyes ... so expressive. He can decipher them. He likes to decipher them, he likes to trigger emotions in them.

— Your room.

Direct order but he complies, descending from Pierre's knees and dragging him after him. Together. They have difficulty reaching his door, not stopping to stop to kiss, touch. They cannot keep their hands to themselves.

— Since how long I've been waiting for this ...

He smiles when he hears it, unlocks finally his door. His companion takes off his shirt in one turn and he thinks he sees a button jump and disappear to the ground. His pants follow too quickly. He puts his arms around his neck, breathes in his scent and he missed it so much.

The realization strikes him.

He missed Pierre.

— Well done, mon champion, his lover whispers sensually in his ear.

He blinks a little violently. Unspoken, so many unspoken between them. He would like to say so much more about it. He likes him a little too much.

— Thank you ...

That's all he can say. Pierre looks surprised, but somehow since he tilts his head to the side and just smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah well i had to write about last wk and podium but i had a busy week so i'm only posting today, i hope it's still okay for you ^^
> 
> tumblr : laeana


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